


Sansa Helps Herself

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), SanSan - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Policeman Sandor, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: Sansa Stark, in a desperate attempt to recover from a painful breakup, reads and follows the advice of the nation’s number one self-help book, "Be You, and Only You, Because You Are the Greatest You That You Could Ever Be!”





	Sansa Helps Herself

Sansa released a deep sigh of frustration. She was bent over with her head down and her hands on her knees, catching her breath, her bare feet sinking into the hot sand, her body dripping with sweat. _ What am I doing? This is ridiculous! _ Her back ached, and her wrists and hands were sore. The muscles in her arms and legs burned with fatigue. She scowled at the enormous black duffel bag that rested on the sand beneath her. Not even the delightful scent of salty sea air could make this task enjoyable. It was difficult enough getting the massive bag into her car and then back out again once she had made it to the beach parking lot, but trying to maneuver it down to the shore was proving to be impossible. _ I wish I had never read that damn book. _

It had all started roughly three weeks ago when Sansa’s heart was broken...again. Her boyfriend of several years, Joffrey Baratheon, saw it fit to dump her on her thirtieth birthday. She was halfway through her favorite dessert, Meyer lemon cake, when he spilled the beans that he had gotten another woman pregnant, and he was going to marry her. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so good. Joffrey had never been comfortable in situations involving outward displays of emotion. As Sansa sobbed into a cloth napkin, he made his way through the restaurant and left. He didn’t even have the decency to pay the bill.

After nearly two weeks of moping, and crying, and eating her feelings, Sansa was in the grocery store checkout when she saw a big plastic sign that read, “Life-changing! You will have everything you’ve ever wanted after reading this book!” Below the sign was a shelf that contained over a dozen copies of a self-help book entitled, “Be You, and Only You, Because You Are the Greatest You That You Could Ever Be!” A healthy Sansa would have taken one look at the cover, and the silly title, and scoffed. But, she hadn’t been herself lately. She was sad, and miserable. And like most sad, miserable people, she was desperate to grasp at anything that promised even the illusion of happiness. So, she tossed a copy onto the belt alongside her cheap wine and peanut butter cups. 

When she arrived home from the store, Sansa poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the sofa with her new book. Before she knew it, three hours had gone by and she had read the entire thing from cover to cover. At the end of the book, on the very last page, there was a list of four exercises. The author claimed that completing those four tasks, in order, would bring about a life change that would lead to pure bliss. Sansa made up her mind that over the course of the next week, she would complete all four of the items. That night, she fell asleep with a smile on her face. For the first time in a long time, she had hope for the future.

The following morning, Sansa was all too excited to begin her self-help journey and complete the first task on the list:

**“1. Go to a coffee shop and order something. When they ask for your name, tell them the name of one of your goals instead. Hearing your goal shouted by someone other than yourself, and reading it over and over as you sip your beverage, will cause it to permeate your subconscious mind and motivate you to reach it faster.”**

Later that morning, Sansa stood in line patiently at the chain coffee shop. When it was her turn, she ordered a peppermint mocha with no whip. When they asked for her name, she blanked. She had a goal set in her mind but when the moment came, it had evaporated. Panic was beginning to set in, so she just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, then paid for her coffee and waited at the other end of the counter. 

A couple of minutes later, a barista in a green apron held up a paper cup and began shouting, “FIND TRUE LOVE!” Sansa’s face flushed. “PEPPERMINT MOCHA FOR FIND TRUE LOVE!” There were giggles and whispers among the crowd of people huddled in front of the pickup counter. She couldn’t do it...it was just too embarrassing. She held her purse in front of her face and ran for the nearest door, hoping no one who knew her was anywhere nearby. _ Great job Sansa. First task and you run away. _

When Sansa made it to work and settled at her desk, she checked off task number one as completed. Even though she didn’t retrieve her coffee, she had told the cashier her goal, and they had shouted it out loud, so that must have counted for something. Next on the list was task number two:

**“2. Beet Cleanse - For 24 hours you are to consume nothing but cooked beets and beet juice. The natural vitamins and fiber found in beets have been proven to rid the body of toxins and promote a rosy complexion.”**

_ Sounds easy enough. _ On the way home from work, Sansa stopped by the grocery store and picked up ten pounds of beets. It seemed like a lot, but she figured they would shrink while cooking. When she arrived home, she changed into comfortable clothing and began the process of boiling, peeling, and juicing all of the beets she had purchased. By the end of the evening, her kitchen looked like a murder scene and the tips of her fingers were stained red, even though she had washed them twenty times.

The following day, Sansa began the beet cleanse. Instead of starting the day with coffee, she drank a glass of beet juice. It was sweet, but awful. Then, instead of packing her usual sandwich for lunch, she packed a few plastic containers of cooked beets that had been mashed for easier eating. Before heading out the door, she grabbed a thermos full of beet juice for drinking at her desk. _ This is going to be interesting. _

The first half of the day went quite well, actually. Sansa found that the fiber in the beets kept her from feeling hungry and the juice stained her lips a pretty shade of pink. It was actually kind of flattering. It was about an hour before her shift was over that things took an unexpected turn. Sansa went to the ladies room to relieve her bladder, and when she stood up to flush, she noticed the liquid in the toilet bowl was red. _ Oh my God, I have blood in my urine. Blood! _Sansa called an Uber to take her to the emergency room. While riding in the back, she kept googling things about red urine. She found that she could have bladder stones, kidney stones, or even cancer! She was going to die. Single. And in the back of an Uber.

Fortunately after several hours at the hospital, and several hundred dollars worth of testing, Sansa found out that she was absolutely fine. It turned out she was one of fourteen percent of the population who experience “beeturia.” She took another Uber back to her office building, then drove herself home. After changing out of her work clothes, she crossed task number two off the list. She was hesitant to read task number three, but it turned out to be an easy one:

**“3. Send yourself flowers at work and have the florist write something nice about you on the card, something you are proud of yourself about. Self-appreciation is key. The most important relationship you have is with yourself!”**

Sansa picked up the phone and dialed a florist near her office building, ordering herself a dozen yellow roses to be delivered the next day. She gave specific instructions for the card, entered her credit card number, and was done. _ Number three complete, easy peasy. _

The following day, as she was coming back from her lunch break, Sansa noticed a large arrangement of yellow roses on the front desk. The problem was that Jeanine, the nosiest secretary in the building, was there. Sansa paused a moment to devise a plan, but it was too late, she had been spotted.

“Yoo hoo, Sansa! Oooh, someone has a secret admirer! You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone!” 

Sansa sighed and slowly walked toward the desk. “Well, I’m not seeing anyone exactly, it’s complicated.”

“So then, what’s the occasion?”

Sansa stood there cursing herself, once again her mind drew a blank. She should have blurted out something, anything. Instead, she stood there like a mute.

Jeanine became impatient and opened the tiny envelope, pulling out the card and reading it out loud. “You are very neat and tidy and you never go too long without washing your hair.” She paused for a moment and read it again, this time to herself. She then looked at Sansa with pity. “He's an odd one.”

It was true, Sansa had always taken pride in her neatness, and people often complimented her on the shininess of her hair. She had not, however, intended for everyone in the lobby of her office building to hear about it.

“Thanks Jeanine, helpful as always.” She grabbed the vase of flowers and walked briskly toward the elevator. Once back at her office, she set the roses on her desk and chuckled to herself. _ Could that have been any more awkward? _

Once again, when Sansa came home that evening, she checked the list of tasks. Having completed the first three, there was only one left.

**“4. Stoning the Past: Gather a large amount of stones. Write on them the names of everyone who has ever hurt you, as well as any traumatic or embarrassing moments you’ve had in your life. When you’re finished, go to the nearest body of water and throw them in. This symbolizes saying goodbye to the weight of the past forever so that you can move forward to a lighter future!”**

That brings us back to Sansa’s current predicament, on a beach in the late afternoon. Inch by exhausting inch, she was dragging her giant bag full of stones along the sand. She was almost past the first dune when a large shadow suddenly blocked out most of the remaining sun. Sansa stood and shielded her eyes with one sweaty hand. She was face to face with a police officer, though he was so large he looked more like a bouncer. In fact, he reminded her of a Greek statue she once saw of Hercules at an art museum...that is, until he spoke.

“Miss? Officer Clegane. We’ve received a call from a concerned citizen that a lunatic was trying to dispose of a dead body here on the beach.” 

Sansa looked down at the bag, the giant black duffel bag that probably weighed two hundred pounds. And then, she laughed. She laughed so hard and so deeply that tears began streaming down her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed that much.

Officer Hercules looked uncomfortable. “Miss, are you alright? Do you need me to call someone?”

Taking a deep breath, Sansa explained everything. The breakup, the book, and the bag full of stones. When she was finished, Officer Clegane had a smirk on his face.

“Why are you smirking? I'm not a murderer! I swear!”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just...I can’t believe YOU need a self-help book to find true love. You’re perfect.” Sansa’s mouth hung open. “I mean, you're a bit weird, and you read crappy self-help books, but you look..” _ You’re still on duty Clegane, remain professional _“...acceptable.” He gulped. Using the toe of his black boot to draw an “S” in the sand. “I mean, as far as looks go, you look fine.” He glanced at her again, this time noticing how the warm golden light from the sunset highlighted her natural beauty. She was practically glowing. A light breeze caused her copper hair to float behind her. She was absolutely stunning. ”You look...really nice, actually.” 

Sansa didn’t know what to do with that kind of attention, so she just stood there, blushing.

“You know...my shift is almost over, I just have to sign off on the radio and then I’ll be off-duty. There's a restaurant about half a block from here called “Whaler’s Cove.” I don’t suppose you’d like to join me for dinner?”

Sansa tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Sure. I mean, I guess I am a little hungry.” 

He gave a genuine, sweet smile. “Great. First things first.” Sansa watched with awe as Officer Clegane picked up the heavy duffel bag with one hand and dumped it into a nearby garbage bin. His body was so muscular that his biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt. They each went to their respective vehicles, Officer Clegane signed off and Sansa retrieved her shoes. Then, they reconvened on the sidewalk, right in front of the path where they had just met. They began the short walk to the restaurant, both appearing nervous.

Once again, Officer Clegane spoke first. “My name is Sandor, by the way. So, I guess you like seafood?”

“Nice to meet you, Sandor. I’m Sansa. And yes. I like most food, actually. Except for beets. If I never see another beet in my lifetime, it will be too soon..”

“No beets. Got it. I’m guessing you’re allergic?”

“Not exactly. I’ll explain later.”

“Can’t wait.”

Sansa’s shoe slipped sideways on a pebble, causing her to roll her ankle. Sandor, with lightning quick reflexes, caught her before she hit the ground. He picked her up, much like a groom picks up his bride.

“You’re alright, you’re alright.” One or two quick adjustments, and he carried her the rest of the way.

Sansa had wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her. She took the opportunity to study his face up close. There were pale pink scars that ran from his hairline down to his jaw, but the rest of his skin was flawless. He was tan, and there was a good amount of dark stubble on his cheeks and chin, except for the scarred area. His lips were nice, not too thin, and he had a strong nose. His eyes were mysterious, as if they knew something she didn’t.

There was one thing, however, Sansa was sure she knew that Sandor did not.

_ I am so glad I read that damn book. _


End file.
